Buried Under
by 20BlueRoses
Summary: After overhearing Ethan declare that he deserves the disease more, Cal's so upset he doesn't want to stay at the hospital to finish his shift. Instead, he accompanies the paramedics to a site of a building collapse. And when another doctor is requested, it's Ethan who volunteers. An alternative sequence of events to 'Buried Alive'.
1. Chapter 1

Two fics in two days! These boys won't get out of my head. This was meant to be a short one shot, but I got carried away. Probably three parts but possibly just two.

I have to be honest and acknowledge this isn't my strongest writing, but I just couldn't resist playing with the plot. I apologise if the medical stuff isn't very accurate. I'm sure anyone with any knowledge can tell I don't have a clue, but I promise I tried!

I have had to change a few minor details to necessitate Ethan being called out as well as Cal, but I hope it still seems realistic – well, as realistic as Casualty made it anyway, still not sure where all that sand came from!

Warnings in this chapter for goriness and bad language.

& finally, I'd love it if you'd be so kind to leave a review. It means so much to me :)

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1.

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Cal can feel his eyes prickling but he refuses to cry. How can he, when it's so obvious that Ethan's right? Since the diagnosis Cal's told himself the same thing at least three times a day, but he can't deny it hurt to hear it from his little brother's mouth.

All he wants to do is run from the hospital, preferably to locate several double whiskey and cokes. Yet, out of nowhere, he's developed a conscience and it's frustratingly telling him not to. It would be ungrateful of him to squander his good health for the easy option.

But he's desperate for a distraction and he can't even try to block the cruel truths by throwing himself into work. He really doesn't want to be around the hospital right now. He doesn't want to chance coming face to face with Ethan. It's impossible to know what would happen, but it's likely it'll end up damaging their relationship further.

Cal seizes the opportunity when he sees Iain coming round the corner, taunting his new partner. He approaches them with a smile.

"Alright, lads? How about me riding shotgun with you today?"

Iain shakes his head. "You reckon I'm gonna let you in my ambo again?"

"C'mon, mate, I said I was sorry!" Cal lowers his voice. "Look, I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to. I could really do with getting out of here today."

Iain laughs. "What have you done this time?"

Cal forces a grin. "So that's a yes?"

"Alright," Iain says, "but I'll have to clear it. And you're buying the pints later."

"Good man!" Cal claps both of them on the shoulder and steers them closer to the exit. The sooner he gets out of Ethan's sight, the better.

He always felt strangely at home in the ambulance and today's no exception. He thinks, not for the first time, that the thrill from being a paramedic would come a close second to being an ED doctor. He listens to the brief on the radio – building collapse following a gas explosion, one known casualty – and feels the familiar surge of adrenaline as the ambulance hastens, sirens blaring.

When they reach the scene, Cal's the first out of the ambulance. He looks around him, trying to decide where to start. His enthusiasm's soon quashed by Iain.

"Leave the talking to the grown-ups, boys."

Cal knows Iain must have sensed he was bursting to get stuck in, but now he can only listen while they're greeted by one of the firemen.

"What have we got?" Iain asks.

"Jimmy O'Connor. Around 40 years of age," the fireman tells them. "He's trapped on the first floor. According to locals, he's been squatting up there ever they started redeveloping. We think he was tampering with the gas mains and caused an explosion."

"Any danger of a secondary explosion?"

"We don't think so. The gas company have isolated the mains but there is some pretty serious structural damage. The impact brought down one of the beams, our guy is trapped beneath it."

"Okay," Iain says. "Let's get the bags and we'll be in there."

"What did I just say? Structural. Damage."

"Alright, calm down," Jez interrupts.

Cal thinks he could learn to like the new kid.

"I'll give you the nod once my men have secured the building," the fireman insists. "Bloody hot heads.

Cal shakes his head as the fireman walks away. The man's an idiot, trying to postpone three medics from reaching a patient. "So what do we do?" he asks. "Just wait?"

He's incredulous when Iain shrugs his response. The adrenaline is pumping now and can easily be redirected to making his colleague see sense. "That man could be dying while we're standing around doing nothing."

"Look, we have to follow instructions."

Cal raises his eyebrows. "Didn't have you down as a wuss."

Cal expects Iain to take the bait, but instead of sneaking them through a back door, he just paces after the fireman and demands a plan to get inside.

The fireman scowls but smooths a floorplan of the building onto the top of a container. "Your man is on the first floor, around here."

"So you don't know how badly injured he is?" Jez asks.

"No. I've got officers to accompany you up, but moving the beam he's under isn't an option without compromising the entire structure."

"Okay." Iain turns to Cal and grins. "You know, no-one's gonna think badly of you if you wanna back out."

Cal scoffs. "No chance!"

"Tread carefully," the fireman warns. "Let's get you in and out safely."

It only takes two steps into the building before Cal begins to feel his heart beating against his rib cage. It's dark, even with the light from multiple torches, and so dusty that he can immediately taste it in his throat. A creak from above alerts him to how unstable the building is and he's glad he was forced to wear a helmet.

As his eyes adjust to the light, he can just about see the silhouette of a man on the floor, but it's too dingy to assess how severely injured he is. The giveaway is the forced calmness to Iain's voice as he greets the patient.

"Hello mate. My name's Iain and I'm a paramedic."

"My name's Jimmy," the man replies "and I'm screwed."

"Well, we're going to do everything we can." He crouches beside Jimmy and checks over his shoulder to ensure the others have caught up. "This is Jez and Cal, my glamourous assistants."

The rubble blocks Cal getting as close as he would like but he's already beginning to see it's not looking good. The man's arm is splayed to the side and completely trapped beneath the beam.

"Let's get some fluids in please," Iain says, thrusting his medical bag at Jez.

"Where's Sarah?" Jimmy murmurs.

"Who?"

"My girlfriend, where is she?"

Iain frowns. "Was she in here with you, mate?"

"Yeah," Jimmy grunts in pain. "Please. Find her."

Iain turns back to face him. "Can you have a scout around?"

Cal picks his way across a pile of rubble. It's uneven and he nearly loses his footing as the brick he stands on tumbles to the bottom of the pile. He shouts out in shock and hears a warning to be careful coming from his colleague. The reply remains unsaid, as he's just laid eyes upon a limp wrist sticking out from under another mound of bricks.

He drops to his knees and grips the wrist, praying for a pulse. He finds one, but it's frighteningly feeble.

"Iain, I've got her!" he shouts. He lifts a few bricks and dusts away some debris so that he can clear her face. She's incredibly pale but for the bloody lacerations across her forehead. "I need some help over here, it's not looking good."

"Nah, Cal, mate, I need you here to look at Jimmy."

Cal ignores him in favour of placing his cheek alongside his patient's mouth to see if he can feel a breath. There's barely anything. "Sarah? Sarah?" She doesn't respond.

It's with shaking hands that he pulls and oxygen mask out of his bag and places it over her mouth. He's as cautious as he can be as he loops the elastic behind her head, aware that even the slightest movement could be fatal if she has an existing neck or back injury.

"Cal?"

"I can't leave her," he growls. "Can you radio for another doctor?"

"We're gonna have to!"

Cal registers Jez speaking to control but his priorities remain on the woman in front of him. Now that he's cleared the loose rubble away, he can see that a beam has fallen across her chest, no doubt the reason why her pulse is so weak and her breathing restricted. He suspects a pulmonary contusion but he can't examine enough of her to diagnose.

The frustrations enough to make him want to hit something; there's a seriously ill woman in front of him and all he can treat is one wrist and the side of her head. He can't help her if he can't reach her. Yet even if he was strong enough to move the beam, he knows he can't. The sudden release of pressure would put Sarah at extreme risk of ischaemia and he needs far more people and equipment around him to stabilise that. And that's not to mention putting the building in danger of further collapse.

Cal manages to free a bit more of Sarah's arm and cleans it frantically with an antiseptic wipe. He taps the joint but it's a struggle to locate a vein. Eventually he manages to insert a cannula and attach some much needed fluids. It's not enough to save Sarah, but it should buy her more time.

"The ED are sending someone now," Jez calls.

"You told them it's urgent, right?"

"Of course, mate!"

Cal hopes Jez isn't lying. "How's Jimmy doing?"

"The limb's pulseless and cold," Iain shouts back over. "We're looking at massive soft tissue loss. I could really do with you over here, Cal!"

He looks back at his patient. He wants to monitor her thoroughly until help arrives, but realistically he knows there's little he can do until the beam is moved off her. At the angle she's lying at he wouldn't even risk intubation, he could paralyse or her worse. All they can do is keep her stable.

"Right," Cal shouts. "Jez, you're going to have to take over here."

The new paramedic arrives clumsily and in a lighter situation, Cal might have laughed. But he notices shock written across Jez's face and suspects he's never experienced something this scale during training.

"Okay?"

Jez takes a deep breath. "Yeah."

"Good. Now listen. Sarah's almost fully buried in the bricks but if you look here you can see what's causing the biggest problem." Cal indicates the heavy beam across her chest. "Resp rate is very low, pulse is faint but only slightly tachy. I've got some fluids going in, but it might be worth pushing them and attaching another bag as soon as you can. I want you to keep an eye on her respiratory output and shout for me if anything changes." He takes one last look at his patient and groans. "You got that?"

Jez nods. Cal's not convinced but he can't waste time waiting for a better answer and stumbles across to Iain as fast as he can. Jimmy's barely conscious. Cal greets the patient but a flicker of Jimmy's eyelids is the only response.

"Iain?"

Iain shakes his head. "I've tied a tourniquet but his BP's dropping and GCS is nine down from twelve. I'm worried he's going into shock."

"I think you're right," Cal says. "We need to push the fluids." He crawls on the dusty floor to reach the side of Jimmy that is trapped. He knows what needs to be done. His eyes flicker to Iain's. "I'm going to have to amputate."

Iain winces. "You sure?"

Cal exhales through his nose. Medically, he's sure. Morally, he's inflicting a life changing injury on someone without their consent. How can he ever be sure of that? "That arm's clearly not viable," he says "and we're looking at potential massive blood loss. We can't move that beam without further risking further collapse… we don't have a choice."

"Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Right," Cal says, trying to focus himself. "It's a transhumeral amputation. I'm going to have to make an incision all around the brachium before I can sever the bone." He glances at his colleague. "I need you to watch his vitals and keep me in the loop."

Cal administers the anaesthesia. While they wait for Jimmy to go under, neither man speaks. Cal can faintly hear Jez reassuring his own patient the other side of the room.

"He's out."

"Sats are good," Iain confirms.

Cal traces his fingers over Jimmy's arm, identifying how much of the arm he can leave. When he's sure he picks up the scalpel and presses it into the flesh. Drops of red blood ooze out and he winces. Cal never intends to become a surgeon and it's rare that he's the one causing wounds rather than fixing them. He continues to slice an incision the full circumference of Jimmy's arm and he can feel every muscle and every vein that he carves.

Once the arm is prepared, he takes the saw from Iain but he hesitates, the blade remaining inches from Jimmy's bloody limb. He's only done one amputation before this and he recalls the most harrowing part as the noise from splintering bone. It's a creak from the ceiling that refocuses him and he places the saw within the cut of the flesh.

Eventually he slides the blade across the appendage. On first saw he doesn't press hard enough, but when he increases the pressure and feels the bone breaking from his work, bile surges into his throat. He spits onto the dirty floor and ignores his colleague's concerned look.

He's still only half the way through the procedure where he hears Jez's frantic call.

"Guys, Sarah's stopped breathing, I need some help!"

Cal and Iain exchange a fleeting glance. Neither can move without serious disrupting Jimmy's chances of survival. Yet Sarah stands no chance if Jez remains without back up.

"Guys?"

"We're amputating a fucking arm, Jez!" Cal lets out a yell of frustration. "What's this bloody doctor doing, crawling here?!"

A familiar cough startles him and the saw nearly slips.

"I got here as fast as I could," Ethan says.

Cal can sense the iciness in his brother's tone and yet he's never been gladder to see him.

"Ethan," Cal breaths. "Jez needs you over there. Female, mid-thirties, severely trapped. Just lost respiratory output."

"Okay, I'm on it."

Ethan doesn't even meet his eyes before he scuttles across to the other side of the room but Cal pushes their fallout to the back of his mind. He's got the rest of Ethan's life to worry about him, but right now he's got a patient to save.

Cal continues to slice the blade back and forth through the bone and eventually the saw snaps through the final piece. "Pass me a swab." Cal demands from Iain. He stems the bleed as best as he can and bandages the stump quickly.

"Okay to move him?"

"Yeah. Yeah let's get him out of here pronto," Cal says. He straightens his back and squints across the room. It's too dark for him to see his brother. "Ethan, how are things?"

"Not looking good," his brother shouts. "I could do with a hand?"

"Sure. Jez, swap back," Cal shouts. He turns to his unconscious patient before he stands. "Jimmy we're getting you out of here, mate."

He passes Jez mid route and they exchange a wary smile. The kid's clearly shaken but Cal admires his determination to stay positive. He cannot say the same for Ethan, who's breathing heavily and doesn't even turn his head to greet Cal.

"Still nothing," Ethan says as he continues to pump the oxygen bag. "She could crash any minute and we have no way to resuscitate with that on her chest."

"Shall I find out how long it'll be before they're safe to move the beam?"

"No point. I asked on my way in. They're hours off stabilising the building and Sarah doesn't have that long."

Cal sighs. He hates to be the one to call this, to tell his little brother the bad news. "All we can do is make her as comfortable as possible."

"We can't give up!"

"We're not giving up," Cal says. "There's nothing more we can do. You said it yourself, we can't resuscitate if we've got no access to her chest."

"I need 2mls of adrenaline," Ethan says. He huffs when Cal doesn't pass it to him. "I'll get it myself, shall I?"

"Ethan!" Cal warns. He places a hand on his brother's shoulder "That would only prolong her suffering, you know that."

Ethan makes a small whimpering noise and turns back to his patient. He checks her pulse. "It's okay, Sarah," he murmurs. "It's okay."

Cal watches his brother smooth Sarah's hair from her ashen forehead. He suspects Ethan's oblivious to the creaking ceiling and splinters of dust falling from above them.

"Mate, we need to go."

"I'm staying with her."

Cal sighs as he tries to reach a decision. He can see Sarah's only got minutes left and he wants to support his brother on this at least, yet he's desperate to return to the fresh air and safety of outside.

Ethan's fingers rest against Sarah's pulse point. "Forget it. She's gone."

"I'm sorry, bro" Cal says. He climbs to his feet and holds a hand out to Ethan. "Come on, we need to get out of here." He removes his hard hat.

"I can manage," Ethan snaps. He unclips his helmet

"Just trying to help."

Ethan takes a few paces towards the exit and then turns around to face him. "Why are you here anyway, Caleb?" he asks. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I dunno," Cal retorts. "I go where I like, whenever I like."

Ethan bows his head and Cal knows he recognises the words and understood the hint that he overheard the conversation with Lily.

"I heard what you said," Cal clarifies. "About… me deserving it, not you."

Ethan sighs. "I was angry. I didn't mean it."

A loud creak comes from above. The both looking up to the ceiling but there's nothing more than a few flakes of debris.

"Yeah, well, you were probably right."

"No!" Ethan starts. "No, it's not true. You don't deserve this. No-one does!"

Cal opens his mouth to reply, to remind his little brother of his exact words. He may not deserve it, but he deserves it more than Ethan.

But before he has chance to form the sentence there's a loud bang and the floor disappears beneath him. He lasts a second of freefall before everything goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow. Thank you so much for all the reviews, I'm actually completely overwhelmed to get so many and I really wasn't expecting it. You are all amazing and I appreciate every single review more than I can say.

I hope this next part is okay but I'm worried I've let you down - it's taken so long to write and I'm still not as happy with it as I would like to be. Also I've used the word 'sand' 33 times in this chapter and now it's lost all meaning haha.

I'd love it if you can leave a few words. One more part to come.

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2.

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It takes a few seconds for Cal to remember where he is and even longer to decipher how he got there. His body feels bruised and when he raises his hand to investigate the sharp sting on his forehead, his hand comes away bloody. There's dust on his face and in his mouth. He coughs to try to clear it but ends up inhaling as much as he can get rid of. The lack of fresh air does nothing to appease his discomfort.

He jumps at the sound of someone else spluttering and he lifts his head to see his little brother sprawled across another heap of rubble. His heart pounds with such intensity that he suddenly feels sick. He had no idea Ethan had fallen through as well.

His brother is squinting towards him and Cal frowns back. He hopes the vacant look on Ethan's face is because of his missing glasses, but they were both knocked unconscious and he knows the risks from that include impaired vision.

"Are you okay?"

Ethan pats himself down. "I- I think so."

Cal tries to show his relief but his lips won't form the smile. He didn't know he had a problem with enclosed spaces until now, but the chamber they're in is small and the only way out, the collapsed ceiling, is many feet above them.

"You?" Ethan asks. "You alright?"

Cal delays the answer by helping his brother to remove a large plank which had fallen on top of him. Once Ethan's free, he tries to assess himself so that he can respond, but he's still determining the answer when they hear the static crackle of a radio from beneath a heap of sand and Iain's frantic voice calling them.

Ethan uncovers the radio and quickly responds. "We're in, erm, some kind of basement."

"Are you both alright?"

"I don't, I don't know," Ethan stammers as he climbs to his feet. He looks down at Cal. "Are you alright?"

Cal opens his mouth to reply but another cloud of dust assaults his airway. As he coughs, his attention is drawn to a movement barely a metre from him. Sand is rapidly spilling onto the floor, gushing from a hole in the roof. The pile of sand is growing in size and creeping towards him at a rate he's far from happy with.

He tries to stand but a shooting pain rockets through his ankle. He gasps, pulls a face and remains on the floor. His instinct is to examine his ankle for injury, but when he leans forwards he can see it's concealed beneath various bits of rubble. He clears a few scraps and unearths a larger piece of wreckage, probably a beam, which has fallen flat across his ankle.

It's the beam that needs to go before he can stand, broken ankle or otherwise, so he summons as much strength as he can into his shoulders and gives it a firm shove. It doesn't move. The second attempt achieves nothing. The third doesn't move the beam but judders his ankle so much that he cries out in pain.

Ethan drops next to him. "Cal?"

"I don't think I can move."

"What?"

"My leg!" Cal throws his hand towards his ankle in indication.

Ethan inspects the heavy object. He manages to get his fingers underneath the edge and pulls it as hard as he can. There's no movement.

Cal's gaze flickers to the pile of sand and then back to his brother in time to realise Ethan is having the same thought. The sand has already smothered some of the smaller pieces of rubble and as it continues to fall, there's a great danger of Cal being among the next to get buried. He feels a surge of panic and tries to swallow it back down.

"Iain, Cal's trapped," Ethan says into the radio. "There's sand coming in. How quick can you get to us?"

"We're looking into it," comes Iain's grim reply.

A second wave of fear hits Cal at the same time as a gush of sand. He slams his hand on a nearby brick. "What fucking use is that?"

"Caleb, stay calm," Ethan orders.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one that's trapped."

Ethan ignores the retort and frowns towards the source of the sand. "We need to think practically," he says. He shrugs out of his uniform jacket and clambers over a heap of bricks. "We need to plug the hole,"

Cal holds his breath as he watches his brother hold his jacket up to the hole. Ethan can barely reach but he balances on his tiptoes and perseveres. Cal wishes he could contribute to the effort, partially because of his height advantage but mainly because he hates how viciously sand is treating his brother.

Ethan's struggling to keep himself upright under the heavy flood of sand and every time he gets near to the hole with his jacket, it knocks him to a lower brick. He's overcome with a violent burst of coughing and stumbles back over to Cal's side to take a deeper breath.

Once Ethan is able to breathe freely again, he turns to Cal and grimaces. "It's not going to work. It's coming down too fast!"

Cal can't dispute the failure, but he feels their only hope of stopping the human hourglass has vanished. The sand has already reached his hips and when he tries to wriggle his uninjured leg he can tell how firmly he's packed in. He knows that once his chest is covered, his breathing could be severely compromised.

He tries to brush some of the sand away but it proves futile as it's pouring as rapidly as he can move it. "Come on!" he yells. He hisses in frustration. "Ethan, do something!"

With one desperate look at the offending hole, Ethan falls to his knees and begins sweeping sand off Cal. But there's nowhere to move it to and Cal is becoming more buried rather than less.

"Ethan, it's no good, you have to free my foot so I can stand."

"And how am I meant to do that?"

"I don't _know_!" Cal snaps. "But I'm going to die if I stay like this."

Their eyes meet. Cal recognises the expression on his brother's face and that scares him just as much as the threatening sand. It's exactly how he looked when he handed over his test results. He wants to protect his little brother from the pain in his eyes but it's impossible when his own predicament is the current cause.

"Give me the radio," Cal demands. He presses the buzzer. "Iain, we are slowly but surely being buried alive," he shouts into it. "What's going on?!"

"Yeah, we're working on it," Iain repeats. "We _are_ coming to get you."

Cal unleashes a howl of frustration and throws the radio onto the floor. It immediately begins to get covered but neither of them attempts to rescue it. His brother's hand squeezes his shoulder. Cal doesn't know if it was meant to reassure him but his heart is still thudding against his chest.

"It's going to be okay," Ethan says.

On cue, a heavy burst of sand showers down on Cal and he's forced to raise his arms so they don't get buried along with his torso. He's waist deep now and he feels paralysed. From the stress lines across Ethan's forehead, he can tell his fears are shared.

They work in unison, frantic arms shovelling sand to the side. Cal can already feel small cuts on his hands from the abrasive texture but it's nothing compared to the tightening in his chest as the sand piles higher.

Ethan clears a mass of sand and before it's replaced he leans into Cal, pressing his ear against his chest. "Your breathing's a little laboured," he says. "Can you try taking deeper breaths?"

Cal shuffles to try to loosen the sand around his chest. "I'm trying!"

"Come on, breathe with me. In…" He waits a few seconds. "And out…"

"I know how to breathe, Ethan," Cal snaps, "but I've got half a tonne pressing against my chest."

Ethan's lip trembles. "In…" he continues.

Cal shakes his head and tries to palm some of the nearest sand away. There's nowhere to move it to as the whole chamber is filled just as high.

"Out…"

"Ethan, stop!"

Cal can see that his brother's legs are getting buried while he stays still. If the sand is allowed to reach waist height then Ethan will be just as stuck as he is. There's no point Ethan sacrificing his life just to give Cal a few minutes longer. He takes as deep a breath as he can manage and places his hand on top his brother's so that Ethan stops sweeping at the sand.

"Stand up," Cal orders.

Ethan looks at him dumbly. "Well then I can't reach you."

"You're getting nowhere. You need to keep your head as high as possible to give yourself enough time for Iain and the others to arrive."

"No, no," Ethan says. "I need to keep this sand away from _you_ until they arrive."

"You can't," Cal replies. He feels his eyes grow damp. "I'm not getting out of here, but you can."

"No, I'm not giving up." Ethan snatches his hand back and continues to scoop the sand.

Cal wants to tackle his little brother and force him into a standing position, but trapped in the ground, he has to resort to speaking for once, instead of actions.

"Ethan, listen, there's no more you can do for me."

Ethan wipes a hand across his brow, leaving a smear of dirt. "There has to be."

"Even if you continue putting all your energy into keeping the sand off me, it'll only prolong things for a few more minutes." Cal pauses to reclaim his breath. "Just, don't feel guilty, okay? None of this is your fault."

"Stop talking like that, Caleb!"

Cal purses his lips and tries not to cry. He's always hated Ethan referring to him as Caleb but now that it may be the last time, he'd put up with his brother calling him that a hundred times a week. His brother has always been the most important person in his life, whether Ethan would believe it or not, and the thought of never hearing that voice again hurts more than the pressure constricting his lungs.

Cal thinks of all the opportunities, over the last few days, when he could have convinced his brother he'll be there for him throughout his Huntington's but instead remained silent. Now he's about to break that promise before it's even been made. He's never going to be able to repay Ethan for all the things he has done.

Except this. He can save his brother's life as long as he's prepared to die.

"Ethan, leave me. Stand up; keep your head as high as possible and they'll reach you in time, I promise."

"No! No, I'm not doing it. We're both getting out of here alive."

Cal fights to get his elbow out of the sand so that he can brush some off his brother's legs. "Get up otherwise you might not have the choice."

Ethan lets out an uncharacteristic yell of frustration. "Okay," he says, "I am going to stand, but only so I can find another way out."

Cal's heart aches with the bittersweet relief of seeing Ethan get to a safe height. He would much rather his brother stayed by his side until he dies but this is one final chance to protect him. It's about time, he thinks, that he learnt how to behave like a big brother. As he battles to keep his arms free, his eyes remain on Ethan stumbling through the sand to the nearest wall.

Ethan trails his fingers along the flaky plaster as if he's searching for something. He stops but there's barely a second before he throws himself at the wall. He grunts as his shoulder collides with the hard bricks. Although there are no signs of impact, Ethan returns his shoulder to the wall again and again.

Eventually Ethan pauses and glances around at Cal. He gives a tentative smile and a further half-hearted shove. "It's beginning to give."

Cal skips a breath. He feebly pushes away some sand. "You sure?"

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah! We're getting out!"

Cal's dizzy with relief. He's about to reply when out of the corner of his eye he sees another large clout of rubble fall from above. His mouth forms a croaky scream. He barely has time to wonder whether Ethan's movements loosened the rubble, before a stone collides with Ethan's head. His brother falls backwards, irresponsive.

Cal's body jerks with the impulse to get to his brother but all he can do is watch. Ethan's almost horizontal and it doesn't take long before the sand starts piling on top of him. Hot tears escape down Cal's cheeks. His brother could be buried within minutes.

Only one arm remains free but he stretches it as far as he can and manages to reach his brothers thigh. He hits him with all the strength he can muster.

"Ethan!" he cries. "Ethan, wake up!" He shakes his brother's leg. "Come on! Ethan!"

The sand is still pouring in on them and Ethan is out cold. Cal squeezes his eyes shut. If these are their last moments then the only blessing is that Ethan won't be conscious enough to feel what it's like to suffocate, to be buried alive. Cal retracts his arm and allows it to become submerged as well. He prays that it's over quickly.

But then there's a cough and Cal's eyes fly open. His brother's stirring but there's panic written across his face.

"Ethan?"

Ethan splutters. Both of his arms are trapped with the sand and all he can do is lift his head slightly. "I can't… I can't move, Cal," he whimpers.

Cal attempts a deep breath but it feels like the oxygen's been snatched away. "I know. Stay calm, it's going to be fine."

"It's not, is it?"

Cal feels a tear run over his lips. "I don't… I don't know."

There's a pause. The only sound is the trickle of sand.

"Cal?" Ethan says. "I'm sorry for what I said."

"You don't have to be sorry, you idiot," Cal gasps. The sand reaches his chin. He tilts his head backwards so that it doesn't enter his mouth but now it's harder to see his little brother. He takes one last look at him and can see his cheeks are just as damp. "I love you, Ethan."

Ethan wheezes. "I love you too."

Cal's never put much thought into whether he believes in heaven or hell but now he's desperate for there to be some other place. There's so much more he wants to say to his little brother, so many things they still have to experience together. Dying shouldn't be one of them.

He counts his brother's breaths and listens as they gradually slow. Eventually there's silence. Ethan's gone. Cal lets two final tears trickle down his cheek and willingly succumbs to the blackness.


	3. Chapter 3

Again, thank you so so much for all the reviews. You've all been really generous with your feedback and I appreciate you taking the time to leave a few words.

Final part from me. I'm happy with the first half of this chapter, less so with the end. I should really have done a further edit on the last half but if I did that it would be another week before it was up (so busy at the mo) and I didn't want to make you wait.

Anyway, I hope it's okay and I'd love it if you can leave one final comment.

x

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3.

* * *

Cal can hear someone calling his name. He can feel someone tapping his cheek, pressing on the pulse point of his neck. But he can't breathe. He can't get any air into his body. The panic shocks him into opening his eyes and he sees his colleague's face right in front of him, full of concern.

"Breathe into this," Iain says, holding an oxygen mask up to his mouth. "Come on, Cal, deep breaths."

Now that he's lucid enough to understand what's happening, his fears leap to Ethan. He's not going to breathe, not going to follow any of Iain's instructions until he knows his brother's okay. And if he's not, well, they may as well have left him to die in the sand.

"Ethan?" he chokes. He tries to peer around Iain but although the levels of sand have dropped as far as his waist he's still too weak to move.

"Ethan's gonna be fine," Iain tells him.

Iain seems to get the hint and shifts his position slightly so that Cal can see his brother sprawled in the sand. There's an oxygen mask over Ethan's mouth and Jez is in the process of fitting a neck brace, but Ethan's eyes are open and looking at him.

The relief sends him gasping for air and he's glad when Iain stretches the elastic of the mask around the back of his head. Every breath feels as if someone is sticking knives down his windpipe.

"Okay Cal, I'm gonna get an IV up and running."

He feels Iain straighten his left arm but doesn't register what he's been told until the sharp prick of a needle assaults his skin. "What for?" he murmurs.

Iain grimaces. "We could be here a while. Ethan told us about your leg. We're getting him out first so there's room to get the equipment in to free you."

Cal begins to shiver. He wants to escape this torture chamber as soon as possible. Although he's desperate for his brother to get to safety, the thought of being stuck without him sends another tear spilling down his cheek.

"Hey, it's okay," Iain says, "You're safe now."

He doesn't feel safe. Sand is still cascading from the roof. Although the hole in the wall has created a big enough space for the sand to pour through and spread itself thinner, the noise as the grains hit the floor reminds him of being buried alive. They were so close to dying. He'd thought it was over. As he remembers, black spots impair his vision and he struggles to hold his head up.

"Whoa, stay with us, mate," Iain says, his hands returning to Cal's neck to check his pulse.

"Cal!" A second voice calls weakly.

It's Ethan's voice that rouses him. His brother sounds hurt and terrified and as if he's put his last scrap of energy into calling his name. Cal blinks and eventually everything returns to focus.

"Ethan," he gasps.

"Cal, focus on your breathing." Iain swivels to face Ethan and Jez. "He's fine, nearly fainted, that's all."

Cal tries to follow the instruction but it's hard to keep his breaths slow and deep when he can see his little brother being loaded onto a board. He wishes he was fit to treat his brother. It's not that he doesn't trust the paramedics, but no-one can give Ethan same level of care he could. Besides, they weren't there. They don't know everything that happened.

"Ethan has a… head injury," he manages to say.

"We know. We're looking after him." Iain attempts his rehearsed fake smile. "C'mon mate, you've got the A-team!"

Cal makes a small noise in response. He's not going to waste any of his precious breath stoking Iain's ego when he may need to reserve it for helping Ethan.

But in Iain's favour, he continues to respect Cal's viewpoint as he works, ensuring he doesn't block his line of vision to Ethan. The only reason Cal doesn't object to the collar Iain's fitting around his neck is because it would detract from watching every movement as the second team of paramedics carry Ethan out of the jagged exit.

Once his brother is on route to the hospital, Cal is forced to consider his own condition. He still has to concentrate on each breath but the pain in his chest is finally subsiding. The sand has freed his torso completely and the layer on his legs looks as if it could easily be brushed off. Although he feels much calmer without the weight of sand surrounding him, he's cold, having had layers of insulation stripped away. The only source of warmth is Iain's hands against his icy skin.

"How long?" he murmurs.

"We're getting the firemen in now," Iain says. "They should be able to give us a time estimate. You alright mate? Pain bad?"

"Nah. Cold."

Iain nods. "Jez, chuck us a blanket."

The younger paramedic obliges and comes to crouch down next to them. "I've been talking to the guys," he says. "They don't reckon it'll take long to winch that beam off your leg, it's getting the area clear enough first which could cause a delay."

"Great." Iain drapes the blanket around Cal and slides onto the floor next to him. "You hang in there, mate."

"Alright if I give them a hand?" Jez asks. "Try to speed things up a bit."

"Go for it. I'll keep tabs on this one."

It seems to take hours for the team of firemen to create enough of a void in the sand for their equipment to sit flat on the floor. Cal's in no rush to get to hospital but he's desperate to get out of the chamber and back to his brother.

He's faintly aware that he's leaning on Iain. He knows his friend will mock him for this next time they're together in the pub but he's less concerned about that than he is when the chief fireman gives an order and Iain disappears to collect the back board from his ambulance.

Although he's sore and can feel exhaustion seeping through his body, Cal rolls his eyes as Iain returns. He sneaks a hand out from under the blanket and pulls the oxygen mask away from his mouth. "I don't need that board!"

"You're not getting a choice, mate," Iain tells him. "You fell, what, a good ten foot? We're immobilising you before you go anywhere." He points at the oxygen mask. "And put that back on, your sats are shocking."

"Don't assume… I'm gonna… get in the habit… of doing as you tell me," Cal says as he returns the mask to his mouth.

"Would I?" Iain grins. "You're sounding more yourself, how's things?"

"Need a drink. You're buying."

Iain exaggerates his deliberations. "Suppose I can stretch to a half."

Cal tries to smile but the short conversation has caused a wave of fatigue. "Another time, yeah?"

Iain calls Jez over and together they position the back board between Cal and the wall. He knows he's at a difficult angle to be transferred onto it and if he had any serious concerns about a spinal injury then he'd be sick with fear that they may jolt him. Instead, he's more worried whether their insistence on immobilising him is going to cause a significant delay. He needs to get to Ethan now. He needs to know how his little brother is doing.

He watches as the firemen slide their winch under the heavy beam he's trapped beneath. They count each other in and then gradually crank the handle of the machine. For a moment nothing seems to happen and Cal wonders whether even the metal of the fire service's equipment is strong enough. But then the pressure suddenly disappears from his leg and he can see the beam a few inches above him. Pain shoots through his ankle. He cries out but doesn't have chance to compose himself before the strong hands of his colleagues slide him onto the board.

He's flat on his back and still gasping from the pain before anyone turns their attention to his ankle. He can feel, but can't quite see, Iain gently sliding his shoe and sock off his foot. It hurts but he tries his best to keep his groans to a minimum.

Iain traces his finger up the sole of Cal's foot. "Can you feel that?"

"Yeah."

"And wriggle your toes."

It aches but Cal does as he's told.

"Okay. Looks like a simple fracture to me, mate, but I'm sure they'll get you to X-ray pronto."

Cal can do nothing but wait as Iain secures his leg in a splint and Jez straps him onto the board. He hates how they've trapped him again so soon after he got free and would tell them as much if he was sure it wouldn't cost him his breath.

The ride to hospital is horrible and he wonders how he was so exhilarated to be in an ambulance only a few hours ago. Every bump sends a surge of pain through his ankle. He feels sick from not being able to see where they're going. Iain keeps up a steady reel of conversation; jokes and football results interspersed with inquiries as to how he's doing. Cal limits his replies to one word answers wherever he can.

But when they reach the hospital he's far from comforted. His colleagues swarm around the ambulance and he's overwhelmed by the amount of people welcoming him. As he's wheeled down the corridor towards Resus, he notices for the first time how bright the ceiling lights are. They hurt to look at.

"Okay, Cal's been trapped for just under two hours," Iain says. "He's fallen approximately ten foot into a basement; only known injury from the fall is a suspected fractured ankle caused by impact from a beam landing on top of it." Iain pauses for the team to digest the information. "Cal's been buried amid a large quantity of sand which reached neck height, resulting in a loss of consciousness. His breathing has also been compromised; sats have increased to 92% now but were only at 90 when we first reached him. He's had one bag of saline and we've just started him on Entonox for the ankle. BP has remained good throughout and his GCS is back to normal."

Connie's face looms into his view. Cal can't recall ever seeing her smile at him before, but seeing as she looks unusually amenable, he gets his question in before she can speak.

"How's Ethan?"

"Ethan's fine, Cal. He's gone for a scan."

Cal struggles to knock the oxygen mask from his face. "What? Why?"

"Just precautionary." She firmly replaces the mask. "He was KO'd from a head injury, that's normal procedure. You know that."

"I want to see him."

"And you will, in good time." Her gaze shifts to the rest of the team, her smile vanishes. "Let's get him across to the bed."

Cal grunts as they transfer him. A hand squeezes his shoulder and he sees Iain give him an encouraging nod.

"I'll let Ethan know you're here, mate," he says, before heading towards the door.

Cal wants to give him a message to pass to his brother, but he's caught in the middle of frantic hands cutting him out of the borrowed uniform. Once his chest is bare he feels the cold of a stethoscope moving across him.

"Pulse is fine," Connie says, "but he's wheezy. Keep him on 100% oxygen for now and we'll try to get those sats back up to normal." She loosens the neck brace and works her fingers around his neck. "Cal, any pain or discomfort let me know."

He waits but doesn't feel anything except the strange sensation of having his boss's hands on his bare skin. "Is this necessary?" he murmurs.

"Entirely necessary. Right, let's roll him on his side so I can examine his spine."

Cal wants to squirm as Connie's fingers kneed their way down his back but the team are holding him completely still and all he's able to do is answer with a no every time she asks if it hurts. He's relieved when they roll him onto his back and even more so when Connie declares it's safe to remove the collar and board and let him sit up in bed.

"I want 20 minute obs for now," she says. "And another bag of saline. Nurse Miller, please book an X-ray for that ankle." She prods at the wound on his forehead. "Okay this is superficial so it'll need cleaning and dressing and let's get him into a gown." She gives him a fleeting smile. "You'll be fine."

Cal leans back against the hard mattress, only faintly aware of Robyn busying herself around him, completing her allocated tasks. Although the levels of pain are manageable, he feels weak with tiredness. He longs for the moment he can climb into his own bed and forget about the day he's had. He fully intends to discharge himself if they even suggest admitting him overnight.

He's still fantasising about getting home, when he notices a huddle of his colleagues outside the room. Rita, Iain and Zoe are standing in a tight circle as if they're conversing in secret. He's sure they're plotting something. Eventually they filter through the doors and gather by the foot of his bed.

"So," Rita says. "Ethan's in a side room. I imagine there's just enough room for the two of you if you don't mind sacrificing your medical confidentiality."

Cal heart leaps but looks towards Zoe in scepticism. "And Connie's okay with this?"

"I believe she's been called into a meeting," Zoe replies dismissively. "Something about an accident at a call-out that two of her doctors were caught up in? I heard it could take a while."

"Besides," Rita interrupts. "Iain's under the impression that either of you could resort to something stupid like getting out of bed to find the other, if we leave it too long. We'll say we had to move you out of concerns for your own welfare.

Cal manages a smile despite the restrictions of his oxygen mask. "Ethan's been asking for me?"

"He mentioned a vague interest," Iain says with a grin.

Cal's bed is wheeled into the room backwards so he strains to look over his shoulder, desperate to see his little brother. Ethan's in a gown that's too big for him, hooked up to a drip and a nasal cannula. He's still dirty with dust and Cal can see the crimson of dried blood besmirching his blonde hair.

Once the others have gone, there's so many things that Cal wants to say to his brother but even he has enough tact not to start the conversation with 'I'm glad you didn't die'. Instead, he offers a smile.

"Hey," Ethan whispers.

"Hey, bro."

Cal still doesn't know where to start. He remembers during their last few moments of consciousness he'd told Ethan he loved him. He knows that Ethan said it back. He's far too tired to try to recall the last time such words passed between them and so instead he considers whether they've changed anything. Ethan still has Huntington's disease. Cal still can't fix it. And yet he feels like they've had a lucky escape.

He could have easily lost his brother today. He still feels sick at the inevitability that Ethan's illness will end his life early but Huntington's buys them time. Accidents can steal a life in an instant. Cal supposes, as a doctor, he should have realised this already, but he suddenly understands how foolish their frequent arguments are. No-one can be guaranteed a long and healthy life. Cal doesn't want to waste any longer dancing around his and his brother's self-imposed boundaries.

"Iain told me Jimmy made it to surgery okay," Ethan said.

Cal nods. "Good."

He's barely thought about the man whose arm he amputated. It's typical of Ethan to care about a stranger even when his own life was at risk and even more typical for Cal to get so wrapped up in his own dramas that he forgets. So many times, Ethan has accused him of only caring for himself. But that's not true; he cares for his little brother too.

"I don't know what I'd have done if you'd have died," Cal says.

Ethan shrugs and stares at his lap.

Cal's forces a laugh. "This is where you say it back!"

"Oh, no, sorry," Ethan says, shaking his head. "Of course I'm glad you're okay. It's just…"

"Go on." Cal fiddles with his hospital wristband as he waits for Ethan to continue. "Look," he eventually says when it becomes clear his brother's sentence is lost. "Neither of us are good at this, at telling each other how we really feel. But in those last few minutes when we thought that was it… there was so much I still wanted to say to you. Stuff that I could have said before but didn't."

"It's just-" Ethan repeats. His lips twitch as he tries to find the words. "All things considered. It would have been a lot easier for you without me, than for me without you."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know, Caleb."

Cal shifts as far onto his side as he can to frown at his brother. "No, Ethan, I do not know."

"Come on, you don't really want to be lumped with a sick brother, do you?"

"No. No, I don't," Cal says. "Of course I don't. I want you to live a long and healthy life. But if something prevents that, then I'll be there every step of the way. That's what I wanted to say. I'll look after you, even when times get bad."

"But that's what I meant." Ethan exhales deeply. "You couldn't be there for me if you'd died. I'd have been on my own. But if I had died, then that would have been the end of Huntington's for us."

Cal's breath sticks in his throat and he's suddenly glad of the oxygen being fed through his nose. "You're not saying-"

"No, I'm not. Honestly, I'm not."

"It could be 20 years yet, Ethan."

"20 years of wondering if this is the day symptoms start." Ethan pulls a face. "That's nothing to be thankful for. But I wouldn't wish it on anyone. No-one deserves this. Especially you." He pauses. "I meant what I said earlier, you know."

Cal manages a smile even though he can feel tears prickling his eyes. "What, that you love me?"

"Not that. Well, that too, not that you'll catch me saying it that often! But I meant about being sorry for what I said. I was just upset and I still am. But I know that blaming you isn't going to help me."

"And what will help?"

"I'm still trying to determine that."

"Well let me know if you come to a conclusion," Cal says. "Just talk to me. Please, I'm here for you."

Although Ethan nods, he doesn't meet Cal's eyes and so the older brother can't help but wonder whether Ethan will ever be able to fully share his feelings.

"I'm sorry too, you know," Cal says.

"You're apologising?" Ethan says incredulously. "And you don't even have anything to apologise for, for once."

"Hey! And I do. I'm sorry it wasn't me who has the gene. I- I've certainly done more to deserve it than you."

"No, Cal!" Ethan replies. "Actually, something that will help is never hearing you say that again. I don't want to waste my time thinking like that. I've done enough of it over the last few days."

"Okay," Cal says. He intends to grant Ethan his wish but just because he won't say it out loud, it doesn't mean he'll stop thinking it. "But let's do something. A holiday or trip. Sometime soon, before you start hating me again."

"I never hate you much, Caleb." He smiles. "So yes, that sounds like a splendid idea."


End file.
